 Hello creeps, this is a very tired T4Y on the mystery playhouse. Tonight's story will be told by Dick Powell who plays Richard Rogue now, and another graphic adventure from Rogue's gallery. When I got on this rattler for my trip to Central City, I was not exactly a joy boy. I hate riding on trains. But a couple of hours later, I'm a happy chappy. Because who do I run across in the lounge car is a little ambition of mine with the name of Betty Callahan, a newspaper woman who is cheating the movies. She's a pocket-sized brunette with cornflower blue eyes and the complexion which wouldn't come off on the shoulder of my blue Gavardine suit. I rescued her from the wolves in Uncle Sam's clothing who were making life too interesting for her in the club car. And we retired to my compartment for the talk about the old times. The place you have here, Richard. That guy can get pretty lonesome in a place like this, you know, Betty. Get that gleam out of your eye, Richard. I'm perfectly comfortable right where I am. Oh, all right, all right. I just thought maybe you'd like to sit here for me and look out of the window. You're so thoughtful. You haven't even told me where you're going. Do things finally get too hot for you at home? Please. I'm going to Central City, baby, for the same reason you are. The Charlie Miller trial. Don't tell me you've learned a lot. Oh, very funny. I'm an expert witness and I've got a brief case full of research here. That's going to make the DA very happy. Come a little closer. Oh, all right. What do you think? Is Charlie going to get the works? Oh, let's not talk about Charlie. Let's talk about me. Do you ever get tired of that subject? No, it fascinates me. Come on. What are you sitting clear over there for? You like it here? Why? Didn't your mother ever tell you anything? About fellows like you? Plenty. Why don't you drop that front page character angel? We've known each other for a long time. Stop pulling. Well, I was just trying to... Well, stop trying. How can you be so mean to me? Ever since the first time I saw you, Betty, I've been stuck on you. No kidding. Oh, Richard. Does anybody ever believe that lie? Once in a while. You know something's going to happen to you in just a minute, baby. Well, I like you. Let's find out. Oh, brother. What's the idea, lady? This is a private compartment. Please. I'm sorry to intrude. Who is this girl, Richard? I never saw her before. Who are you? I had to come in here. My life is in danger. Well, Rockhand, lady, I don't think you improved your situation any breaking in here when you did. Oh, why does everything have to happen to me? Why don't you buy a ticket, Latin type, and then you wouldn't have to play hide-and-seek with the conductor? I had to come in here. I'm hiding. There's a man on this train who has designs on my life. Yeah, what Bernhard could have done with that line. You don't believe me? That's right. Now scram. Don't answer it. Please. It's him. The guy with the design? I want to take a gander. Oh, no, no, no. I'll answer it myself. It's impossible if there's nothing more to say. I think maybe you're better. I know where you're going, Diana. I know what you've got. Do you want to come out here? All right. I'll be with you in a minute. I'll be waiting. Want me to take care of that punk for you? You stay out of this, Richard. Please. Will you keep this briefcase for me? Don't let anyone touch it. Please. Next time, why don't you get a drawing room with a revolving door, Richard? Oh, shut up. You know, I'm kind of worried about that girl. I'm going to feel pretty silly if she comes up dead. For the next two minutes, I worried about Diane and the man who had designs on her life. But I'm a romantic, huh? So I spent the next 58 minutes trying to spell by in Betty and to seeing things my way. But she wasn't looking. At the end of an hour, my chances were still about the ratio of Little Rock Junior High against Notre Dame. So I gave up. It's been an hour since I visited her checked out. What do you think, Richard? The Dame's either as goofy as a cub outfielder or she's really in a jam. If you're pulling me, I'll put my X on the first answer. Let's take a look in that briefcase she left behind. Hey, wait a minute, honey. That's my briefcase. Oh, I'm sorry. Don't get halfy, Richard. Those two briefcases are practically identical. Yeah, I guess they aren't that. Well, give me mine. I'm going to put it up here on the rack. Hey, what is this? Pipe down, pretty boy. Turn the lights back on, Richard. Shut up, lady. All right, give me that briefcase, pretty boy. Get that flashlight out of my eyes. Keep your hands where they are. Give me that flashlight. Sorry, lady, but you asked for it. Now, pretty boy, give me that bag. Hey, what's the gimmick? What are you pulling that emergency cord for? And I want to have to shoot you with your hands out of your coat. So long, pretty boy. As he pulled the cord, I could see the gleam of a gun on this character's fist, and I didn't want any samples of his marksmanship. But I could hear Betty groaning on the floor at my feet, and all of a sudden I felt that I had to get him before he jumped out of that window. He'd knocked out with the butt of his pistol. I made a die for him expecting to stop a little lead. When I got where he'd been, he wasn't there. He was behind me. I knew that when I heard the flashlight whizzing through the air. It connected expertly right behind my ear. And there I went again into the land of Nod, which is practically my home away from home. Everything was very quiet for a while, and I slept peacefully. Get up, Rogue. Get up. Snap out of it. Betty's been hurt. Betty? Gotta get up. Oh, I can't. Oh, my head. Get up. Get up. Wake up. Get up. What's that noise? It's at the door. Someone wants in. Oh, they'll go away. What happened? I can't remember. Remember the man? He came back. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, cut it out. Stop that pounding. Oh, my. I can't. I can't. What's that pounding? Pounding. Pounding. Cut it out. Cut it out. Stop it. Do you hear? Stop it. Stop it. Okay. Okay. Betty. Oh, Betty, you poor kid. Hello, man. Hello. I'm coming. I'm coming. Just keep your shirt on. I demand an explanation of what's been going on in here. Come on. Come on. The window broken. Do you know what that does to the air conditioning in this car? Well, a man got out of that window while the train was stopped. Who pulled the emergency car? This guy. He came in here waving a gun around, took a briefcase that some dame had left here, stopped the train and knocked our brains out. I just came to and he's gone. So, let's face it, conductor. He must have jumped out the window. Yes. And what happened to the young lady who left the briefcase here in your compartment? I don't know. Who was she? I never saw her before. Oh, are you okay, baby? It takes a bump like that. Clear up my mind. Who was that fellow? I don't know. I'm holding you responsible for the damage that's been done to this compartment. What's your name? The name's Richard Rogue. Now get out of here. I'll give you some more things to hold me responsible for. Personal things. I'm the conductor on this train. Okay, okay. We'll still be on your train when you pull in the central city. Goodbye now. Now everything's all right, folks. Let's get back to your seat, please. We're going ahead immediately. Please return to your seat. I've heard you were dynamic when you got started, Richard. Yeah, look. That daffy dame that came charging in here wasn't kidding. That briefcase for hers is full of dynamite. It was, you mean. It's gone. Out the window. Oh, no, it isn't. That window jumper took my hand, remember? I had it in my hand, ready to put it up on the luggage rack when he came in. Give me hers. It's right over there behind you. Oh, sure. It's locked. I don't know what's in it on you. I love life. I just wish I'd never seen it. Well, comb the hair over that lump on your head, baby. We're going to find and confer with the young lady who sparked this carnival in Mayhem. Okay, I'm in. I owe that brunette a little something. Let's go talk to her. My head had that familiar old feeling of having been washed in a washing machine. And I was feeling anything but cute as we wandered down the aisle, asking porters if they'd seen a big brunette wearing a blue pinstripe suit and a hat with cherries on it. That was Diane, you know. Finally, in car 73, the porter recognized the description and told us that the lady was in drawing room A. Naturally, the conductor came along about this time. His glares bounced off that haze of pain that surrounded him. He went with us under protest to drawing room A. No answer. She isn't in. Why don't you look in the club car? I did. Knock again. Why don't you try the door, Richard? Okay. Oh, it's open. Conductor, mind if we go and look around? What right have you to enter the state room of a strange woman? She entered his. Assume if you want to, but I'm going in there and take a look around. Nobody at home, I guess. Well, I hope you're satisfied. Tearing up the train, walking into other people's drawing room. Look, mister, I'm trying to help you. I've been all over this train. This name has to be someplace. All right. All right. She's not here. And I can't stand around all night. Look, over there, under the berth. I don't see anything. You know? Come here, conductor. What do you think that is? Red ink? White. That's blood. Well, I'll pull these blankets back. Oh. I'm getting out of here. Are you convinced now that something's happened to that girl? Yes, I suppose so. Well, she must be in here someplace. Open the door to that wardrobe. Oh, Richard. Steady, Betty. Here. Help me move her up on the berth. No. Leave her right where she is. The cops won't want her moved. Oh, that knife and that rope. She's dead. Yes, she was dead. And all we knew about her was that her name was Diane, and that I had the briefcase which must contain the reason for her murder. A pleasant thought. I took one more look at the dead girl, shuddered, and pulled Betty out of that room. I wondered what was going to happen next, and who was going to be the main attraction. I must have been born under a police star. No matter what I start out to do, I end up in more trouble than a jitterbug at a square dance. Me? I start out to be an expert witness, and I wind up in the sheriff's office in Central City trying to explain a murder. Betty was enjoying every minute of this comedy of terrors being a news hawk. She was jumping with enthusiasm and theories. The sheriff was jumping with importance, and I was just jumping. I don't like murder unless there's a prophet in it for me. Sit down, rogue. You shouldn't be so nervous. Well, we should be getting reported that murdered woman, shouldn't we, Sheriff? We're not going to get any place until we find out who she was. Well, my men are working on it, rogue. Now, just take it easy. We know our business here in Central City. Uh-huh. Well, it's your business. It isn't mine. So if you don't mind, I think I'll shove off. I've got a little business to take care of myself. Uh, just a moment. I'll, uh... But we got a positive identification on that lady who was stabbed on the train, Sheriff. And who do you think she was? Well, who was she? Get to it, Hennessy. She was Diane Miller, wife of Charlie Miller, who's on trial for murdering Big Joel and Bertie. No kidding. You can go, Hennessy. Sheriff Mills. Yeah? All over the place, huh? Great work, Sergeant. Okay. I'll have a figure out on him in ten minutes. Thanks. Well, what's the good news? Have anything to do with the case? Well, rogue, the man who stabbed Mrs. Charlie Miller was Flip Stone, Miller's best friend and his first lieutenant in the slot machine racket. His fingerprints were all over the knife. How do you like that? I don't like it. It doesn't make sense yet. Richard, I'm going to go call this into my city desk. Will you meet me at the hotel and bring me up to date on what has happened? Sure, I'll take care of it, baby. You run along, keep your readers informed. You might as well go along with it, rogue. We don't need your help to solve this case. We're perfectly capable of taking care of it ourselves. Oh, wow. Lots of luck. I've heard all about you, rogue. Just keep your hands in your pockets while you're in Central City. We don't like smart private detectives very well. Remember that. I was all set to try and help the guy until he said that. I don't approve of people going around sticking knives through other people, and I'm willing to throw in my naked birth to see that they're discouraged. And this politician with muscles running up to the part in his hair gets tough with me. Oh, well, he probably had run across some wrong guys in his time. Anyway, Betty and I lamb back to the Hotel Splendid. We went up to my room because we wanted to talk. She called in her story to her paper, and I sat in the window and talked the deal over with myself. She finished her phone call. I really walked into a scoop this time, with city editors having hallucinations. He even promised me a raise. Throw the ball in that door, will you? Why? Oh, don't be so conceited. I want to take a look in this briefcase, all the excitement is about. Of course you know you can get put away in the pokey for a long time, but withholding evidence. You're the worrying type, aren't you? Why do you suppose Flip Stone rubbed out his boss's better half? Maybe she asked idiotic questions while he was trying to open a briefcase. You know it's locked. Yeah, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ruin the lock with my knife. Too bad. That's breaking and entering or something, isn't it? Illegal entry. Oh, that'll add 20 years to your sentence. I'll still be a young man I get out. Oh, come on. Come on, I'm not going to be a bra beaten by a lock. Hey, $100 bills, millions of them. Take a gander at that, Betty. Money! Oh, you catch on quick. No wonder Flip Stone was so anxious to get his hot little pink fist on this letter. You count it, will you? I'd love to. There's some letters in here I want to be impolite about. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, one. Richard, there must be $50,000 here. Baby, this is the works. These letters explain a lot of things. I'm counting. Wait a minute. 81, 82, 83, 84. Don't bother me. I never saw this much money before. No. Well, I know now why Flip Stone put the kiss of death on the lovely Diane. He had to keep these letters and that money from being delivered. He didn't want Charlie Miller to beat that around. Four, five, six, seven. I'm through 6,000s already, and I haven't even made a hole in the pile. Oh, the guy who wrote these letters was a character. Five, six, seven, eight, seven, ten, one. Give me the sheriff's office, please. Thank you. 8,000, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 9,000. Oh, I wonder what a nice yacht it cost me. Chicken, if that dough was yours, you'd be Mrs. Richard Rogue tonight. Oh, would I? Six, seven, eight, nine. Hello, hello, sheriff's office. Let me talk to Sheriff Mills. Richard Rogue calling. Gracious. Seven, eight, nine, 11,000. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Oh, hello, sheriff. This is Richard Rogue. 12,000. Yeah. Come down to 730 at Hotel Splendid right away, will you? Well, don't ask so many questions. I'm going to make you a big man. I want you to help me plan a surprise party. All right. Now, hurry. Hey, that's a lot of letters you got there, belly darling. 12,000. Flip Stone really grabbed a handful of disappointment when he bailed out with that misage of my mistake. There wasn't nearly that much money in mind. Who could that be? I don't know. Look, I'll get over behind the door. You open it and we'll look our company over before we put this artillery away. All right. I don't like guns. Ah, they come in handy sometimes. OK. Put them up, lady. I'm coming in. You can't come in here. Shut up. Just keep backing up. I want that dough. You switched bags on me. I didn't. I didn't do it. Where's Rowe? I checked every hotel register in town looking for him. Where is he? I want to slap him around a little bit for him. Oh, Richard, why did you wait so long? I administered that pistol anesthesia with masterful precision. Flip was going to have a long ride on the dream train. Betty and I took a sheet off the bed, tore it into strips and tied flip up like traffic at Hollywood and Vine. Then we looked around for some place to hide him. We finally picked out a spot that any old maid would have thought of immediately. We slipped him under one of the twin beds. Then we finished counting the money. $25,000. Oh, it looked beautiful there. But I had things to do. I called the sheriff. He hadn't left the jail yet. So I went down there to talk with him. And while I was there, I had a chat with Charlie Miller, a very satisfactory chat. Then the sheriff and I went back to the hotel. Betty made a phone call, and we waited for company. The sheriff and I squeezed into a closet when the knock came at the door. Who is it? You just called and invited me down. Okay. Thanks. Now let's get this over with, Mrs. Miller. I want to get out of here. Don't be in such a hurry. How do I know you're on the level? Do you have the money with you? Yes. I'll give it to you after you sign this little document. What is it? I'll read it to you. All right. I, Lewis Tobin, a member of the jury in the trial of Charles Miller for the murder of Big Joe Lamberti, do hereby acknowledge the receipt of $25,000 from the hand of Mrs. Charles Miller, for which I agreed to hold out against the conviction of Charles Miller, and to find him not guilty. I also agreed to use my best influence to make the other jurors agree to a not guilty verdict. And that's where you signed the document. Oh, you know I can't sign a thing like that. Now look, I've got $25,000 in hood rooms ready for you. You get it when you sign your name. Right there. No, I can't. If you keep your word and my husband gets a hung jury or an acquittal, this receipt will be torn up. If you don't, I'll give it to the newspapers. Sign it. Okay. Okay, I'll sign it. Here's a pen, Mr. Tobin. I, I, I... Okay. There, I'll just hang on to this until you give me the money. Here you are. $250, $100 bills. There we are. You want to count it? No, no, I just want to get out of here. That's all right. Don't move, Tobin. The sheriff and I both have you covered. You double-crossed me. I was just trying to... Get the Tobin. I'll shake him down, Sheriff. He's got $25,000 on him that you marked yourself. You haven't got a thing on me. I was just trying... Take your hands out here. Well, I, I... Miss Callaghan, could I have that confession? Oh, sure. If you'll let me have it back I'll roast that later. Okay. It'll be yours. Exclusive. And now I'm going to take this man down and lock him up where he belongs. Yeah, that's a good idea. Very practical. Oh, yes, Sheriff. You better take this money with you. I just spend everything I get my hands on. Oh, yes, yes, of course. Thank you, Rogue. You better count it. Later. No, Sheriff. You better count it now. I can't take the time now, Rogue. If there's any money missing, I'll be back. And there had better not be any money missing. I had news for the sheriff, but he was so impressed with this pinch that he couldn't see me. Oh, well, I knew he'd be back. You see, I'm a practical guy. I had palmed and pocketed $5,000 out of that watered dough I took off Tobin. I showed it to Betty and she was horrified, but I knew what I was doing. So I just sat there and waited for the door to take a beating. And it did. Who is it? It's the sheriff. Let me in, Rogue. Why, Sheriff, you're all red in the face. It's your age. I knew you were a crook the first time I set eyes on you, Rogue. You probably studied psychology at Barry College. That's what makes you so smart. There was only $20,000 in that briefcase when I counted the money at the jail, and I had four honest men as witnesses. Well, bless your heart. Where's that other $5,000, Rogue? In my pocket, Sheriff. And that's where it's gonna stay. No, that's larceny. And you, you're under arrest. Now, is that silly? Look, Sheriff. Oh, please, Mr. Tallym, don't needle him anymore. Well, Sheriff, you remember when I went in the cell to see Charlie Miller? What's that got to do with the missing funds? Well, he posted a $5,000 reward for the killer of his wife with you, didn't he? Oh, yes, I suppose he did. You suppose you know he did? Well, if you look under the bed there in the bedroom, you'll find Flip Stone, the guy who murdered Diane Miller. It was very simple. I just collected my reward in advance, that's all. My friend, the Sheriff, was a little upset for a while, but he calmed down when Betty brought in a photographer to take his picture for the papers. Isn't it funny what some people will do to get their pictures and their papers? I had to practically wrestle him to keep him profiling me in a big ham. Well, I split the reward with Betty, of course. Well, I didn't just exactly split it with her. I gave her $2,000. But she didn't want to take anything. Isn't that just like a woman, though? Or is it? We're a little late, folks. This is T4Y. Good night. Sleep tight. This is the Armed Forces Radio Service.